Ravenclaw's Horcrux
by Stefynae
Summary: Dumbledore leaves Harry the clues to the Ravenclaw Horcrux. Which leads the young wizard on a journey he never thought he would take. HBP spoilers.


One

A Gift from the Headmaster

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Harry had never witnessed such a somber scene in his entire life. Never had he experienced such a wave of grief as he did when he stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. Usually, for him, the experience was tinged with sorrow, for it meant his return to the Dursley's and another excruciating summer. But the way he felt now was entirely different. For the first time in his life he was completely alone, utterly lost.

He knew what he had to do, of course. He had made up his mind when he finally accepted the fact that Dumbledore was gone. The greatness of the man would always stick with him, but no longer would Dumbledore hold his arm as he Apparated, or encourage him when Harry tried to work out the answer for himself.

There were no answers now, despite what Harry tried to tell himself. There were only questions, doubts, and fears.

He followed his best friends into a cabin with heavy feet, heaving himself onto the seat. Ron sat next to him, his parents granting his request to ride the Hogwarts Express back to London. Ginny had remained with her family. Hermione looked solemnly out the window, the remains of her tears distorting the normal contours of her face.

"This is all so sad," she said, more to herself than her company. Ron nodded and decided to go sit next to her. Hermione fell into his arms, sobbing quietly. Harry bent over, his face in his hands. He had been left a terrible burden without a guide to rid him of it; but he had lost more than just a guide. It is both a frightening and important revelation when you realize how much a person really means to you only when they are gone. Harry had experienced death before, but nothing quite like this. He looked up to his friends sitting across from him, now slightly more than friends themselves.

He reminded himself to always tell them how much they meant to him. He turned to look out at the countryside, now speeding past them as they travelled farther and farther from the place he consisdered his true home.

This was no longer just another train ride, Harry decided. This truly was the begining of the rest of his life. He fell back and heaved a great sigh at this realization just as there came a knock on the door. Hermione and Ron seperated quickly, Hermione wiping the tears from her face.

"Harry Potter?"

It was the old cart woman, who had always been so kind to Harry and his friends. Her vision seemed to be failing as she searched the cabin, her eyes falling over Harry twice before he finally spoke up.

"That's me," he said, regretfully.

"Right-o! I have something for you, m'boy." She rummaged around the bottom of her cart until she found a small brown package. "Professor Dumbledore wanted you to have this," she said, holding out the parcel toward Harry. He took it cautiously, not quite knowing what to make of it. The cart woman noticed his tentative stare. "He said you wouldn't have had the time this semester to look at this one. Said when you're ready, it's in the back."

"What is?" Ron asked.

"Don't know. Apparently you do," she said to Harry, who thanked her. "Just followin me orders, is all. Don't make any messes." And with that she was gone.

"Harry—I'm not so sure you should be opening that," whispered Hermione. They all thought the of the necklace, the wine...the Half-Blood Prince. Harry twitched nervously.

"It's Dumbledore's handwriting," he said, pointing to where their former headmaster had written out Harry's name (to be delivered at the end of term, upon the arrival of said person on the Hogwart's Express).

"Well then, I trust it," Ron said confidently. Hermione still looked unsure, but nodded in approval.

"It's a memory!" Harry exclaimed after ripping the package open. He held the small vial in his hand. The silver contents inside were unmistakable.

"Who's?" Hermione asked, suddenly curious.

"Not sure. Wait, there's a note."

Dear Harry,

Please do not read the contents of this envelope until you have seen this memory and have analyzed it yourself. Though I am not with you, I believe that between my thoughts and yours we will be able to solve another piece of this mystery together.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

_Though I am not with you..._. Harry kept reading the phrase over and over again. It seemed more than just "while you're home for the summer." It had a hint of finality to it. Harry shivered.

"So what's in the back, then?" asked Ron, leaning forward to get a better look at the note.

"How else do you view the memories of others?" asked Hermione. The question came off harsher than she had meant it to, and Ron responded by falling back in his seat. He crossed his arms and snorted, not even bothering to answer her.

"Ron—"

"I'd better go," Harry said suddenly, pocketing the vial and the note.

"What? We're coming too!" Ron exclaimed. Harry shook his head.

"Sorry mates. I think this one is between me and Dumbledore." He stood up to leave. Ron started as well but was held back by Hermione.

"We'll be here when you get back," she said reassuringly. Harry smiled and walked out.

Anticipation quickened his pace with each step. Why was he given this now? Why did Dumbledore want him to view it alone? And Harry just couldn't shake the thought that Dumbledore somehow knew he wouldn't be there _from now on_ to help Harry along his journey.

With all the thoughts racing through his head, he hardly noticed the cart lady before he bumped into her.

"Watch it there, Potter," she said sternly, straightening the mistrued candies on her cart.

"Sorry--erm, where exactly is...?" The woman smiled, leading Harry back to the cargo area. Harry had never seen this part of the train. It was jam-packed with trunks and belongings. They all seemed relatively the same size, so Harry assumed the larger ones had been shrunk to fit. The woman led him through a maze of luggage, reminding Harry of the Room of Requirement. He shivered again, thinking of the Half-Blood Prince's book. Thinking of Snape. Thinking of his hatred for Snape.

It is odd how such simple events can spark such intense feelings.

"Here it is. Whatever _it_ is." Harry woke from his thoughts to see a small door in front of him. He thanked the woman, who turned into a large trunk. Harry heard a bang and several curses trail off as she made her way back to her duties.

The room on the other side of the door reminded Harry of an old washroom; perhaps that's even what it used to be. There was dirt on the walls and grime everywhere.

Everywhere except on the Pensieve in the middle of the room.

Harry stepped toward it tenatively, reaching for the vial. He uncorked it and let the contents fall into the bowl. The substance swirled slowly and gracefully before his eyes.

And then he plunged head first into the memory.

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